Those Awful Pipes
by SirPrickles
Summary: Bombalurina enlists Munkustrap and Demeter to rid everyone of the Rum Tum Tugger's bagpipes. Rated "T" for mild language and suggestive themes.
1. Initiation

"Dem? Dem, wake up. I need you."

Demeter tried to push her sister's voice out of her dream. It was a good dream, complete with Munkustrap, a picnic in the sun, and those little goldfish crackers she was so fond of.

"Dem! Wake up!" Now something was prodding her. The dream slipped mournfully into the night as Demeter rolled over to see Bombalurina on all fours, anxiously looking down at her. From her other side, she heard Munkustrap sitting up heavily.

Demeter was too tired to do anything more than blink at her sister. Munk, being a gentleman, asked (rather courteously given the late hour), "Is everything all right, Bomba? Is there—an alert? Do you—"

"No. No. Nothing like that." The red queen leaned back on her haunches, still looking at Demeter with an anxious expression.

Demeter forced herself to whisper, "Do you need to…talk?" _Please no_, she prayed.

Bomba nodded.

"About…him?" Demeter's voice soured. Bombalurina flushed. For the first time she looked guilty.

"Tugger?" Demeter had to be sure.

Bomba whispered, "Yes."

Demeter felt Munkustrap collapse and turn to face the other way. The next step for him to ensure their privacy would be to ostensibly start snoring.

Bomba's eyes were very wide, faintly catching the moonlight from the left side. They were also big and brown and beguiling.

Demeter pulled herself up and yawned mightily. Sometimes it was hard to tell who was the elder. She let her green gaze wander for a moment over the familiar shapes in her den blanketed under midnight and moonlight; the pots and wooden blocks, broken chair legs and cracked but ornate mirror, and finally, to her fidgeting sister.

"So," Demeter said. "Him." She was properly resigned for the task of advising her sister's relationship, although she knew it would do absolutely no good. The tom in question was not made of workable material—everyone knew that. He was built for the rush, the excitement; quick and slim and wild, handsome, but completely incorrigible.

Demeter had no idea how Bombalurina had actually mated to him.

"So," Bomba said, quietly, "I'm having a problem with his…um…"

Demeter felt her temperature drop and a tiny voice of panic in her brain. _Please no_, it whined, _don't let her talk about that. Anything but that_. Thinking about Tugger and her sister as it related to sex would cause irreparable trauma. Or, at the very least, vomiting.

She twitched slightly. Munkustrap's striped tail softly draped over her leg. Demeter checked on him. His back was toward her and Bomba and he was absolutely still, but she knew he was just as awake as she. She watched as deep breaths caused his sides to expand and contract.

Meanwhile, Bomba still struggled to find the words.

"Well, it's like this. He's taken to…more often than usual…at the worst possible moments…" She had yet to form a complete sentence.

Demeter blinked diplomatically.

"It's those awful—" here Bomba dropped her sultry voice to a whisper—"bagpipes."

Demeter sighed in relief. "I thought you didn't mind them, of all cats."

"Weren't you listening?" Bomba said, affronted. "He's taken to playing them at the most terrible times. Like, mood music, or when we're—"

"Say no more," Demeter declared.

"You see why I can't take it anymore? I need some peace and quiet. The things I do for his vanity!

"And no, I can't tell him," she whined, seeing Demeter's answer forming. "He thinks I adore his playing!"

"I wonder what gave him that bright idea," Demeter said darkly.

Bomba opened her eyes innocently. "It's like this—I want them gone. But he can't think I had anything to do with it! I need your help!"

Demeter raised both eyebrows. This was the emergency that made Bomba sneak into her den in the middle of the night? Tugger's ridiculous bagpipes? Granted, they were annoying and he was quite terrible, but it didn't seem like a life-or-death situation. It wasn't worth waking up poor, tired Munkustrap. Or ruining a dream about goldfish crackers!

"I'm sorry, Bomba, let me get this clear: you want me to steal the Rum Tum Tugger's bagpipes and take the blame, because you secretly can't stand them and you don't want to hurt his feelings?"

"He doesn't have to know it was you," Bomba said evasively. "He just can't suspect me." She ran her nails through her brilliant red headfur. "Besides, you would be a hero to all the Jellicle cats."

"I'm in," Munkustrap said out of the blue.

Bomba smiled, a very saucy smile. Demeter sighed. They both knew the negotiation was over.

Munk traced his nails down Demeter's upright back. She loosened up. Maybe this wasn't such a horrible idea. Those bagpipes were awful. A Tugger without bagpipes would still not make the list of Demeter's Top Ten Favorite Things, but was definitely better than a Tugger with bagpipes.

"I once helped Mac swipe those," Munk said, in a dreamy sort of voice. "That was a great day. He did get revenge by putting food coloring in my fur after, turned my tail all blue, but it was totally worth it."

Bomba was suddenly business-like. "I'll distract him. I can keep him occupied"—she put a low purr on "occupied" and Demeter groaned—"for a few hours. Plenty of time for you to swipe 'em."

"Where does he keep them? I know he took to hiding them."

Bomba leaned forward conspiratorially. "In the bureau drawer. Under the dish-rags and those funny mittens Jenny gave us. Top drawer."

Munk laughed. "As if I couldn't reach them."

Bomba giggled. "He's more concerned about the marvelous magical Mr. Mistoffeles. Ever since the turkey incident."

Demeter smiled fondly at the memory of a large turkey deciding the Rum Tum Tugger was its mate. "Good times," she said.

Bomba clapped her hands. "Great! It's all set. Tomorrow, about noon. You won't need more than a few minutes—" she giggled indecently—"but I'll give you a few hours, just in case…"

"Please, Bomba," Demeter begged.

Laughing, Bombalurina jumped to her feet. She planted a kiss on Demeter's forehead. "Goodnight, sleepy-head. Thank you both! I can't wait to get my peace and quiet."

Munk muttered, as she was striding out, "If she really wanted that, she wouldn't have Tugger."

Demeter collapsed onto her back. She stared at the ceiling. "I should try to enforce a no-waking zone. I love Bomba; I want her to be happy, but…oh, Munk. You know."

He purred in agreement and wrapped his arms around her waist. Demeter smiled, just a little smugly. Her tom was very workable material.


	2. Interrogations

"Misto! Oh, Misto! Magical Mr. Mistoffeles?" The last part came out with extreme sarcasm.

"Yes, the-Rum-Tum-Tugger?"

"Where are they?"

The Magical Mr. Mistoffeles blinked lazily. "Who?"

"Them!"

"What are you talking about?"

Tugger leaned over menacingly. "My bagpipes. They've gone missing."

"I didn't take them," Misto said, a little too quickly.

Tugger snorted. He kept glaring at the smaller tuxedo tom. Misto didn't flinch.

"I promise I didn't."

Tugger didn't budge. Misto said:

"This is because of the turkey incident, isn't it?"

"No!" but he backed away, quite involuntarily.

The little magician was now smirking broadly. "Ah," he mused.

Tugger crossed his arms. Just then, both toms heard little tripping footsteps and Victoria burst into view.

"Sorry!" she breathed to Misto as she flung herself into his arms and planted a very loud kiss on his lips. She hadn't seen Tugger; he was half-hidden under the shade of the large rocking-chair.

Misto looked rather shell-shocked, but pleased. Victoria finally pulled away and explained, "I was just on my way when Jemi asked for help digging a new collar out of this one pile of junk, and we were getting it when Pouncival came along and—" she rolled her eyes "—and—Tugger!"

The last word was a shriek. She jumped up as if electrocuted.

"Victoria," he drawled, thrusting his head back and hips forward, and tapping her on the nose. "How's my favorite new queen?" He relished the word queen with his tongue, and Victoria blushed furiously. She shot a quick, guilty glance back at Misto, who was past irritated and onto irate. She shivered and backed up, looking bashfully at Tugger.

Tugger grinned. Once a fan-kitten, always a fan-kitten.

Misto stepped forward and emphasized, "I did not take your bagpipes. I don't know where they are!"

Tugger sighed and crossed his arms again, being very careful to keep his riotous stance (which had Victoria blushing still) and asked, "Any ideas, then?"

Misto settled back down and pulled Victoria (a little more forcefully than necessary) onto his lap. "If I had to guess, I'd say Bombalurina."

Tugger let out such a derisive laugh, it sounded like a bark. "Bomba? No way. She loves my playing." He couldn't help but preen as the memory of her adoration washed over him.

Misto said dryly, "She may love your playing, but not your bagpipes."

"Nonsense. She loves them. I see her when I play them!"

"So have I. Whilst your eyes are closed in rapt concentration, she winces like the rest of us."

Tugger refused to believe it. "I know it wasn't her," he repeated, stubbornly. "She's the only one who likes them."

"Oh, did she tell you so?" Misto said, a little too innocently. Victoria bit her lip to keep from laughing. Tugger, however, wasn't paying attention; a new train of thought had entered his station.

"Munkustrap!" he muttered, and hurried off.

He stalked through the junkyard, ignoring the usual attentions from the females. He found Munkustrap perched on the northernmost junk-pile dubbed "the watch-pile". Alonzo was there, of course, blithering on about patrols.

Munk saw him coming. "What a pleasant surprise. To what do I owe the honor of a visit from the Rum Tum Tugger?"

"I think you know, _bro_." Tugger faced him.

Munk said calmly, "I'm afraid I don't. But it must be important if you were able to tear yourself away from Bombalurina."

"I'd rather be there, yes," Tugger conceded, fluffing his mane in an arrogant fashion. "But don't play dumb. I know you stole my bagpipes."

Alonzo, who had been listening to the exchange with half an ear, let out a hoot. Tugger eyed him coolly. Then he looked back to Munk, who had an expression of polite interest.

"You and Mac did it before."

"Maybe it _was_ Mac."

"Not likely. He's completely gone to the dark side. Bagpipe theft is crude, but not evil."

"More heroic," Alonzo put in, grinning at Munk, who returned a small smile.

"I'm sorry, _bro_, but I really have no ideas."

Tugger saw that neither of them would be any help. He swung around dramatically, then looked over his shoulder. "Well. I guess I'll have to get my queen friends to help me search. And I'll ask them oh—" he rolled his hips—"so"—he kept rolling—"nicely!" He finished up with a particularly vigorous thrust.

Alonzo looked outraged. Tugger tossed his mane and added swagger to his step, intent on finding those damn bagpipes.

* * *

"It's—it's—disgraceful," Plato said, furiously scratching his ear. "Etcy and I were having a—private moment, and bam! Tugger walks in, doing that—his thing that he does, and she up and goes off following him, forgetting I'm even there!"

Tumblebrutus groaned. "Something similar happened with Electra. Bast, why can't they give it up?"

Plato growled, "Well, why can't he cut it out? He's got Bombalurina! Bomba-lurina!" He stressed the desirability of Tugger's mate.

"He can't find his bagpipes," Misto said, sliding down the pipe and into the conversation. "And what Tugger wants, the rest of us pay for."

"Too true," Pouncival said wistfully.

Finally done scratching his ear, Plato looked at Misto. "Just give them back already!"

Misto sighed. "I know the turkey incident is still fresh in everyone's mind, but I had nothing to do with this."

Tumble suggested, "Munk?"

Misto added, "Or Jerrie. Or Teazer."

"Naw, they're at home in Victoria Grove this week."

"Hmm…well—"

"I don't care!" Plato snapped. "I don't care if it was Macavity himself! He's a menace without them!"

"He's a menace with them," Pouncival pointed out.

"But he's been better since Bombalurina!"

"Bombalurina," Pouncival said wistfully.

"Oh, come off it, Pounce."

"What do we do?"

"What can we do?"

"Find the Basted things!"

* * *

Demeter watched, sharply, from her lazing perch on the washing machine, as the Rum Tum Tugger teased and smiled at his groupies as they tore through mounds of junk, looking for his bagpipes. It was definitely a mark of his influence, how hard they were searching. Demeter knew for a fact that the kittens had no love for the bagpipes either. No one—not even Bombalurina, who was Tugger's number one fan, could stand them.

He stood in the midst of them all, with his paws in his studded belt. Every few minutes another kitten would trot up, pouting, reporting that she couldn't find them, and he would speak low and touch her cheek or nose, and cause her to scamper off happily in a renewed fervor. Right now he was doing it to Jemima.

Demeter huffed. Some way to treat her sister! Eyes averted, she laid her cheek against the cool metal of the washing machine.

A few minutes passed of the kitten's noisy searching. Demeter felt a swish of air near her face. She opened her eyes to find the Rum Tum Tugger passing a paw in front of her face.

Not this again. Demeter hissed. Tugger pulled back the paw lazily and moved just out of reach.

"Sis, whilst gazing into the deep mysteries of space and time and Munk's uncanny ability to bore everyone (the true mystery of life), have you spotted a pair of bagpipes anywhere?"

Demeter's mouth fell open. Sis? Oh, no…

"Candy canes? Football? Sound familiar?"

She didn't speak. He continued, "So. You'll let me know. I'll be around…" He rolled his hips in accompaniment before striding away with his usual swagger. Demeter tore her eyes away, angrily.

"Always so nice chatting you up, _Sis_," he stressed, before disappearing into the group of kittens.

Demeter glared after him. She hoped Bomba planned for this rather upsetting contingency plan.


	3. Intervention

Bombalurina turned redder than her usual scarlet color as she watched Tugger, who was _her_ mate, chat with that slinky Cassandra, who was taking no pains to hide her slender curves.

_Bast!_ she thought. Those bagpipes were much more trouble than they were worth. Since Tugger had discovered their loss, no one had had any rest. He had harassed, harangued, and interviewed everybody in the Jellicle junkyard in an effort to locate them. Of course, she thought, smugly, this was all to no avail. Munk was a cool customer and Demeter wouldn't fall prey to his charms. And of course, Tugger had never even thought of asking her, Bombalurina, about them. Bomba sighed. She didn't know whether to be flattered or insulted.

One thing was for sure. Everyone was thoroughly annoyed. His charm was even wearing off the almost-queen kittens.

Although, Bombalurina mused angrily, it was still working on Cassandra.

As if he felt her heated gaze, Tugger looked up and met her eyes. He smiled a crooked smile and said something to Cassandra, then leapt over the washing machine and other various objects up to where Bomba sat.

He swung down beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Bomba was tense—his flirting had been so hardcore lately that she had a mind to be very cross.

"How's my Red Queen?"

She shrugged his arm off.

Tugger raised an eyebrow, but let it go. He leaned back on his elbow and grumbled, "I'm never going to get my damn bagpipes back, am I?"

Bomba shrugged again.

"Bast." He closed his eyes. "I think they're all in on it. Is my playing really that horrible?"

"No," she said immediately.

The corners of his lips curled up in a smile. "Honestly, you're the only one on my side. No one else even pretends to care."

The phrase "pretends to care" hit Bomba hard. "Tugs, why do you care so much? They're just bagpipes."

"Sentimental value, actually." Tugger sounded mildly surprised that she didn't already know that.

"Really?" Her ears pricked up.

He sighed. Opening his green eyes, he turned his face to the side to look at her directly. She bit her tongue. His eyes were so light, so intense. They seemed to pierce right through her, right into her heart. A flush of pleasure rolled over her, and after it, a wave of panic. He couldn't suspect her. He wouldn't. She squirmed.

He didn't. "Don't go," he said, mistaking her movement. He looked up at the afternoon sky.

She stayed put.

"I wish I had them back so I could play for you. You know," he dropped his voice to an enticing whisper, "you love my playing."

Sweet Everlasting Cat, why did he have to be so stupid when he was being so sweet? Why? Was it worth the pain and aggravation? Was it worth the noise?

Bomba made a decision.

"Tugs? I have an idea."

He rolled over. "I'm all ears. And mane. And tail." His tail slid around her leg.

"Stop that," she scolded, blushing with pleasure. "Here's the idea…"

A few hours later, Tugger addressed all the Jellicle tribe.

"Toms, Queens, and kittens," he glanced at each group as he spoke, "as you are doubtless aware, my bloody bagpipes are missing. I want them back. One of you here—" his eyes jumped from Mistoffeles to Munkustrap—"has them."

"I still say it was Mac," Munk muttered, loudly enough that everyone could hear him.

"I am willing," Tugger continued, effortlessly raising his voice to drown out the whispers, "to make some sort of deal. Pay a ransom, if you will. So consider that."

Excitement filled the junkyard. The Rum Tum Tugger, making a deal? This would be a first. Chatter filled the air.

Plato grabbed Mistoffeles. "We are going to get him to stop—the—all that—sexiness! Seduction, swaggering, all done. Yes?" He said "yes" in such an aggressive tone that no one wanted to disagree with him, never mind the fact that it was, to the young toms, a fine idea.

Misto squirmed away. "Only one problem. We can't actually make said offer. We don't have the bagpipes."

Munk, listening in on the young toms, felt Demeter's hand on his shoulder.

He looked into her soft green eyes. "A good trade," she said softly.

Munk nodded. He glanced at Bombalurina, who was sitting prettily behind Tugger. She didn't seem to care.

"Fine, Tugger," he said loudly. Everyone shut up. Tugger glared at him.

"Macavity my ass."

Munk said coolly, "If the Rum Tum Tugger will give up flirting, and seducing, and things of that particular nature, he can have those awful bagpipes back."

"Wait!"

Everyone now looked at Pouncival. "Maybe he'll trade for Bomba?"

Tugger's glare, perfected on poor Grizabella, caused Pouncival to shrink down and mutter, "It was worth a try."

Munk continued, "So. Flirting for bagpipes. Deal?"

Tugger rolled his head and pretended to think about it.

"Deal. Give 'em."

Munk trotted away and quickly returned with the long lost bagpipes.

Tugger snatched them. Just as quickly he tucked them under his arm and raised the candy cane pipe to his mouth.

The shrill wail of the bagpipes pierced the night. Jellyorum groaned loudly, and even sweet Jemima had a hard time keeping a straight face.

Munk covered his own ears hastily. He glanced at Demeter. She looked annoyed (weren't they all?) but strangely satisfied. Munk followed her line of vision to where Bombalurina sat. Bomba, the mastermind behind the whole heist.

But you would never guess by looking at her. She was beaming and listening to the "music" with rapt attention.

Tugger, who had clearly started playing to punish everyone, was keeping eye contact with Bomba while he played. He gave her a wink.

Munk couldn't help but smile. Bomba would rather listen to those pipes every day than have Tugger flirting with all the girls.

And he was sure Tugger would never guess that it wasn't the music she was adoring. Her big amber eyes glowed with pleasure, and her red lips were unconsciously parted. She looked as though she would rather do nothing else than listen to this.

A soft crunching came from Munk's lower left. Demeter was eating a bag of goldfish crackers.

He leaned over and whispered, "You shouldn't do that. They always give you goldfish dreams."

Demeter smiled wryly. "I don't mind as long as no one wakes me up."

Munk noted the way Tugger was looking at Bomba. "No worries. I think that your sister will be rather busy tonight."


End file.
